


Bram Vs. The Super Secret Identity

by boykings



Category: Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Bram is a Superhero, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, POV Bram Greenfeld, Pen Pals, Secret Identity, Speedster Bram Greenfeld, i restarted this because i fucked up so terribly lol, i wasnt ready for fame, ok not TERRIBLY but i didnt plan ahead and things got messy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-06-30 21:46:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15760326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boykings/pseuds/boykings
Summary: Bram Greenfeld is just like you. For the most part, his life is totally normal. He and his friends do everything teens do: go to football games, have way too many parties, and hang out at Waffle House after soccer practice worrying about college and relationships. He’s just like you; he has a totally, perfectly normal life.Except he has one huge-ass secret.Well, two huge-ass secrets.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ((this note is long af u dont have to read it sorry))
> 
> so...i changed some stuff. quite a bit of stuff. so much stuff that i had to transfer this fic onto a new work so that people would read it from the beginning (because otherwise you wouldn't know what the fuck was going on. seriously.)  
> some fixes i made (aka reasons why you should keep reading even if you're fed up with me):  
> DATES! boy, if you actually paid attention to email and message dates the first time around, i am sorry. but i don't recommend paying attention to them now either because i honestly have no clue what the atlanta school year is like and when the fuck is spring break? may? april?? does anyone know???  
> anyway, bram is a speedster now because making up a superpower is more difficult than it sounds. like, damn.  
> that's basically it, i think. overall, i hope this version will be less confusing and more interesting than the previous one. that shit was a mess  
> (enjoy)

_From: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com_

_To: bluegreen118@gmail.com_

_Date: Mar 3 at 2:37 PM_

_Subject: Re: speaking of secret identities..._

_Omg that would be so cool. I’m curious, though: how would Mr. Wise react? Do you think he’d grade it like any of the other essays or disregard it entirely? I also just really want to read that now. You should write it! A gay superhero definitely hasn’t been done before. (Except for the comic book from Queer as Folk, but I don’t think that counts.) You could even base the main character on the Silver Speedster._

_Anyway, I think you’re a pretty good writer and a story like that could help a lot of people. You better put me in the acknowledgements, though. ;)_

_-Simon_

 

I don’t have time to type two words of a response before Garrett claps a hand on my shoulder and shakes me lightly.

“Bram, buddy, come on. Soccer practice. Can’t be late again, so shake a leg.”

Garrett is the only person other than Coach himself who says ‘shake a leg.’ He started doing it to mock him, and then it just stuck. He probably thinks it’s hilarious.

I put my phone in my pocket and Garrett and I start walking to the field. About halfway there, Nick runs up and joins us. He bumps fists with Garrett and then me, and he smiles at me and we make eye contact for a split second before I look away. It’s possible I almost had a tiny crush on Nick last year. Briefly.

 

I’m off my game the entirety of soccer practice and it shows. I actually get benched for a few minutes, which really only happens when someone fouls. But it makes sense. All I’m thinking about is that email, what I want to say, how I want to say it. He thinks I’m a good writer, and he hasn’t even read any of my real writing, just the emails. Part of me really wants to go for it and write the story, not for the creative writing contest, just for me. For us.

And he wants the main character to be based on the Silver Speedster, of course. In this town, if you put the words “gay” and “superhero” in the same sentence, the first thing anyone will think of is the Silver Speedster. He’s Shady Creek’s very own Superman, if Superman were a very flamboyant teenage boy. But the fact that Simon knows him, and maybe even _likes_ him, is what’s making my stomach do somersaults.

Because the Silver Speedster isn’t just anybody. He’s me.

Or I’m him. I don’t know anymore. I came first, but who would I be without him? I’d just be a kid with one secret identity. Not that that sounds so bad. But he’s important to people now–and _damn_ , he’s important to people like Simon, so Silver lives on.

But nobody knows–not my parents, not my friends, and _definitely_ not Simon. I know I’ll have to tell him eventually, but I think I’ll start telling people I’m gay before I tell them I’m the kid in the silver bodysuit who saves their town from the forces of evil. When I do tell people, my mom will be the first to know, then maybe my dad. Maybe. But Simon comes right after that, no question.

 

_To: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com_

_From: bluegreen118@gmail.com_

_Date: Mar 3 at 4:02 PM_

_Subject: Re: speaking of secret identities…_

_Lol. I think Mr. Wise would have to read it, right? Unless he thought it was a joke submission? But I’m not gonna enter. At least, not with my Silver fanfiction. About writing it, I’m considering it. It would be cool for gay kids around the world to have what we have in Creekwood. I do like the idea of basing the character off of him, by the way. Do you like him?_

_P.S. I never got that far into Queer as Folk, so I don’t know what the comic is about. I watched the first episode last year and had to stop. I’ve been too scared to go back and finish._

_-Bram_

____________________________________  

_From: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com_

_To: bluegreen118@gmail.com_

_Date: Mar 3 at 7:51 PM_

_Subject: Re: speaking of secret identities…_

_Bram–_

_Hopefully Mr. Wise wouldn’t think your Silver Speedster self-insert fanfiction (I’m assuming it’s a self-insert because why wouldn’t it be) was a joke. I think he’d accept it as long as it was tasteful and PG-13. However, if you decide not to follow those guidelines, I would be more than happy to review the story myself. As for whether or not I like Silver, I think I’ve made it pretty clear in this email that I do. When it comes to hot teenage superheroes, he’s #1._

_P.S. Remind me to tell you about it later. It’s interesting. And yeah, the first ep is kind of...overwhelming. :-*_

_-Simon_

 

I get Simon’s email at 8:00 PM but don't stop reading it until 10:00.

_When it comes to hot teenage superheroes, he’s #1._

First of all, Simon Spier thinks I’m hot. Okay, technically, he thinks the Silver Speedster is hot. And he’s never seen Silver’s face, obviously, which is interesting.

And the fact that he’d read fanfiction about me, even if he doesn't know it’s me, is what keeps me up for an additional hour.

And then at 11:07 PM, I can hear sirens.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s nothing big. Armed bank robbery, which is pretty easy, considering I can move faster than a bullet. I’m lucky, though, because if it had been anything more dangerous I might not have survived. I can’t stop thinking about Simon.

He’s going to be the death of me. Literally.

 

When my alarm goes off at 6:30 AM, I’m seriously considering faking sick. But I never let myself miss a day of school after a night of fighting, no matter how tired I am, because it might cause suspicion. I don’t think my mom would let me stay home anyway. At least it’s Friday.

Most of the day is hazy. I’m struggling to keep my eyes open until lunch, when the cafeteria is buzzing with excited conversations about last night.

“Did you guys hear what the Silver Speedster did last night?”

“Abby, do you think I live under a rock?” Nick asks, laughing. “Literally everyone heard.”

“No, I mean what he actually _did_.” Abby’s face lights up. It always does when she talks about Silver. “With the gun? That’s insane. He’s super fast.”

“Good thing he doesn't play for our team, Nick, or I’d be worried for you.” Garrett mumbles.

Simon and I look at each other. He scoffs and smiles at me, and I look down so I don’t blush. He reaches for a tater tot from my tray. Instinctively, I swat his hand away, which is stupid. I shouldn't have done that. Damn.

But he just laughs and grabs the tater tot anyway, then flashes me a stunningly bright smile. I’m going to melt.

 

_To: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com_

_From: bluegreen118@gmail.com_

_Date: Mar 4 at 6:20 PM_

_Subject: Silver_

_Simon,_

_Sorry for taking so long to respond to your email. It was a weird day. But I don’t know about a self-insert Silver story...not really my thing. But if I do write something, you’ll get to read it. Promise._

_I think you should write a story. It doesn't have to be for the contest, and it doesn't have to be about Silver, but I think you have a lot of good ideas._

_-Bram_

  
  


_To: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com_

_From: bluegreen118@gmail.com_

_Date: Mar 4 at 6:26 PM_

_Subject: forgot to ask…_

_What exactly does the :-* emoticon mean?_

_-Guy who can’t be bothered to look it up himself_

 

Simon doesn't respond all weekend.

 

On Monday, I’m terrified of going to school and having to face him. He must have misinterpreted my email. I bet I scared him off. I’m so stupid. I feel like shit.

First period, Mr. Wise announces that submissions for the spring writing contest are officially open, and they will stay open until the day before spring break. I glance quickly at Simon. He’s not paying attention.

I really screwed up.

 

At my locker, right before lunch, I look over to Simon’s locker. He’s standing with Nick, who has his back to me. Nick must have just said something funny, because a huge smile breaks out across Simon’s face and his eyes do that cute crinkly thing. _God, he’s so cute_. A moment later, I realize he’s making eye contact with me. _Shit_. I wave and smile hopefully at him. He smiles back, which is a good sign.

 

“Garrett,” I call as I run to catch up to him on our way to the cafeteria. “will you switch seats with me today? At the lunch table?”

Garrett looks at me suspiciously for a minute, but says yes. So, I’ll be sitting next to Leah instead of Abby, and Garrett will sit facing Simon. Problem solved.

Except when we get to the cafeteria, everyone is standing, crowded around something on the table. My first thought is that it’s someone’s birthday, but nobody’s singing or wearing birthday hats.

“What’s going on?” Garrett taps Abby on the shoulder.

“We’re reading the paper,” she says without looking up.

“The school paper?” I ask. She nods. “What’s in it?”

“It’s a story about the Silver Speedster.” Leah answers. She’s the only one who isn't desperately trying to look at it. She’s probably the only person in the whole school who isn't obsessed with him. It’s kind of nice.

I squeeze my way into the circle to see the article. The headline makes my heart drop.

 

_SILVER SPEEDSTER’S THURSDAY NIGHT BUST: MORE PHOTOS REVEALED_

 

 

> _A post shared on the infamous Creekwood tumblr account Saturday night features images of Shady Creek’s Silver Speedster on Thursday night, when he saved three hostages from an armed bank robbery. The photos, taken by a passerby who chooses to remain anonymous, are of the speedster himself as he enters the bank. Though the photos were taken hastily and are not of the highest quality, the images as well as a statement from the photographer confirm that our hero is dark-skinned. This is a groundbreaking discovery for the people of Creekwood, as many of us are desperate to know the Silver Speedster’s true identity…_
> 
>  

It goes on like that. I slump into one of the spare chairs placed next to the table. My head is spinning, and then I remember the flashes from that night. Two quick bursts of white light about thirty seconds after I entered the building. I figured it was just a security camera going off, which wouldn't have been great either, but at least Creekwood CCTV is usually black-and-white 480p video.

I lean forward to look at Simon. He’s the only one other than Leah who isn't standing up, but he’s still reading the article. Although he doesn't look excited or frantic like Abby does; his brows are furrowed. He almost looks worried.

He still cares. Even if he doesn’t know it’s me, he cares. That’s what matters. That’s what’s keeping me in one piece right now. Maybe I won’t lose him.

I check my phone to see if he emailed me during passing period. No new messages.

 

_From: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com_

_To: bluegreen118@gmail.com_

_Date: Mar 7 at 11:13 AM_

_Subject: Re: Silver_

_Dear Bram,_

_Sorry for taking forever to respond. I had a draft typed and then I got distracted and honestly, I forgot that I actually_ didn’t _send it. It has been a kind of weird week._

 _Anyway, I want to apologize, because I shouldn’t have assumed you were even into Silver. I don’t know if you are, but I mean, it’s not like it’s a requirement of being gay in Shady Creek. But yeah, I also shouldn’t have assumed you’d be comfortable talking about or writing a self-insert fic with_ anyone, _because...yeah, that can be awkward._

_I appreciate what you said about my ideas, but I don’t think I’m a good enough writer. You know, sentence fragments and all._

_Also, while we’re on the topic of the Silver Speedster, did you read the school paper? That article was a total invasion of privacy. I don’t understand how creeksecrets hasn’t been deactivated yet. I think it’s totally unfair that the guy who took the photos gets to remain anonymous while literally trying to ruin this kid’s life. I’m kind of worried about what will happen if he’s outed._

_Sorry again._

_-Simon_

_P.S. If you’re still too lazy for Google, it’s kind of a funny story: I thought :-* meant “my lips are sealed,” but apparently they represent puckered lips? Whoops._

 

I’m almost relieved to read his email.

So, Simon’s not mad at me. That’s the good news. But he definitely misunderstood what I was saying about Silver--although, really, it’s hard to make a definitive statement about your secret identity. I’m at fault for being cryptic. To make myself feel better, I tell myself this is nothing a short email to clear things up can’t fix.

But I can feel that slight awkwardness in his writing, like one of us crossed a line and can’t go back. I hate it. He shouldn’t feel awkward talking to me. He should feel as comfortable and safe as I feel talking to him.

I really like what he says about Silver, though. I hadn’t really thought about it that way, but now that I do, I’m pissed. Screw that kid for thinking they had a right to tell the world who I am. I’m the only person who can do that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so much less angst omg. simon and bram are both disaster gays how are they alive


	3. Chapter 3

I’m sitting at my desk in my bedroom because my mom isn’t home and I need to do something about this suit. It’s got a huge tear down the back of the leg, like a run in stockings. I don’t even have a clue how that got there. The other issue is that apparently an eye mask doesn’t cut it anymore, because now the whole city knows my hair and skin color. Sewing is kind of difficult, though, and I eventually get frustrated and move downstairs.

I turn on the TV. For some reason, the last thing my mom was watching was one of those crafty how-to/DIY channels. The show that’s on right now is about making projects with your kids on a budget.

‘...and here’s a tip: if your kids like dress-up, you can make them homemade costumes with materials found at your local thrift store!’

_Oh._ Maybe that’s a good idea.

 

_Message to: Garrett_

_Sent: Mar 7 at 4:32 PM_

_Hey can u give me a ride_

 

_Message from: Garrett_

_Sent: Mar 7 at 4:39 PM_

_...a ride where_

 

_Message to: Garrett_

_Sent: Mar 7 at 4:40 PM_

_The goodwill_

 

“Dude, this better be fucking good.” Garrett says as I open the door and get in the passenger’s seat of his car.

“It is. I promise.”

“Yeah.” Garrett rolls his eyes and backs out of my driveway.

 

When we pull into the parking lot, I turn to him.

“Hey, so...you can just drop me off.”

“Excuse me? No, I did not just drive three miles to pick you up and seven more to take you to a fucking thrift shop so you could ditch me. Whatever you’re doing, I’m coming too.”

I roll my eyes--internally, of course--and step out of the car. I’m already walking through the front door by the time Garrett’s stopped the engine.  


Thrifting is actually kind of cool. There isn’t a lot of raw fabric, which would be ideal, but the majority of the clothes appear to be from the 80s, which means spandex. Lots of spandex. I’m also hoping to find some fabric paint, but Garrett keeps distracting me.

“Greenfeld!” I turn around to see him holding up a small bong. “Why would anyone give this away?”

“Looks like there’s still water in that,” I point out. He holds it up to his face to inspect it, and then makes a disgusted face and lightly sets it back on the shelf. I can’t help but laugh.

Luckily, Garrett doesn’t ask me why I had a sudden need for costume materials at 5:00 on a weeknight. He’s probably afraid of the answer he’d get. I could tell him I moonlight as a drag queen, but I somehow think he’d find that less believable than the fact that I’m a teenage superhero.

 

_To: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com_

_From: bluegreen118@gmail.com_

_Date: Mar 5 at 9:12 PM_

_Subject: Re: Silver_

_Dear Simon,_

_Please don’t apologize. It’s not your fault, but I do think you misinterpreted my previous email. I’m not uncomfortable talking about “those things.” I promise, I’d let you know if I were. It’s just that the Silver Speedster isn’t exactly my type._

_I know that sounds crazy, but I’ve kind of got my eye on someone else._

_:-*_

_-Bram_

 

_From: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com_

_To: bluegreen118@gmail.com_

_Date: March 5 at 9:23 PM_

_Subject: Re: Silver_

_Do u wanna hang out after school tomorrow_

_-Simon_

_Sent from my iPhone_

 

_To: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com_

_From: bluegreen118@gmail.com_

_Date: Mar 5 at 9:38 PM_

_Subject: Re: Silver_

_Yeah. Here’s my phone number. You can text me the details._

_-Bram_

 

3:00 can’t come soon enough.

I want to save a seat on the couch for Simon in English, which is difficult, because Nick always sits in between us. But when he and Nick come into class at the same time, I’m able to catch his attention, and I move my backpack so he can sit. Nick hardly notices.

Mr. Wise reminds us once again that the writing contest is accepting submissions, and Simon knocks his knee against mine. I elbow him gently.

 

_Message from: Simon_

_So...WaHo, 7 pm? I can pick you up_

 

_Message to: Simon_

_It’s a date_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do high schools in georgia get out at 3 pm? i sure hope so


	4. Chapter 4

At 6:30 I realize I really have nothing to wear. I mean, it’s Waffle House, so I don’t exactly need to dress business casual, but it’d be nice to make an effort. It’s our first date. That’s so incredible to say. 

 

“Mom?” I call to her from my room. “Do you still have the...the button-up tee? The black and white one?”

“Your father’s?” she asks as she moves into the doorway. “I think so, why?”

“Well, I--I’m going out to eat with some friends and I wanna look nice.”

She purses her lips. “It’s a school night, you know.”

“I know.”

“So your curfew is 10:00 PM.”

“I know. That’s fine.”

She doesn’t say anything as she disappears into her room. A moment later there’s a grey blur flying at me.

“Thanks!”

 

At 6:51, Simon calls me. 

“Hey,” he breathes when I pick up. “Um, I kind of got here earlier than I thought I would. Is that okay? I mean, are you ready, or should I wait? It’s fine if you’re not, I know I’m basically ten minutes early, and I don’t have a problem with waiting--do you want me to come in? Actually--no, that would probably be a bad idea--”

“Simon.” I interrupt him. He’s so cute when he’s flustered. “I’ll be right out.”

“Okay. Cool.” He laughs nervously. At least I’m not the only one.

 

When I come outside, he’s leaning against the passenger door of his red Subaru. I love that car; it seems like it was made to fit his personality. I’ve only been in it once before, when we carpooled to Abby’s for a school project. But I love it, because everything about it just screams  _ Simon. _

“Hey.” I say, once I’m close enough.

“Hi.” He looks at me for a minute. I look back expectantly. “Oh! Jesus--sorry.” He fumbles to move out of the way and then opens the door for me.

 

The ride to WaHo is pretty quiet. We’re obviously both nervous as hell, so conversation is limited to  _ Do you want to listen to the radio, Is this station okay, _ and  _ Do you like this song? _

We’re waiting for a table when I decide to say something.

“Hey.” He looks at me, and I can tell he’s afraid of what I’m going to say, like I’ll tell him this was a bad idea, but he’s doing his best to give me his undivided attention. I smile. “Just--sorry for being so quiet in the car. I tend to freeze up, you know, when I’m…”

“...When you’re talking to cute boys?” he asks.

“Exactly,” I say, and we both laugh. “But I don’t want you to think it’s because I don’t like you. I do. And I’m really glad we’re doing this.”

“Me too.” he says, and then the hostess takes us to our table.

 

“No, no way. Absolutely not.”

“Yes. Come on, it’s funny.”

“I don’t think it’s very nice. I mean, I don’t think I could kill anybody without good reason.”

I roll my eyes.

“What are you, like, ten? ‘I don’t think it’s very nice.’ You know you don’t  _ actually _ kill anyone, right?”

Simon just laughs, that silent laugh where his shoulders move but no sound comes out, which is probably one of my favorite things about him. On the list, it’s right under his actual laugh, which he probably feels too self-conscious to use right now. I think it’s adorable.

“Okay, Jesus. Just go.”

“Alright…” I think. “Abby, Garrett, Taylor.”

“ _ Woah.  _ Hold on.” His eyes are wide. “You didn’t say it was gonna be people from school. That’s a game changer.”

“That’s what makes it interesting! Look, Si, I promise I won’t tell anyone if you secretly want to have sex with Abby Suso. We all do.”

He scoffs and puts his hand over his eyes. Another nervous habit.

“Yeah, okay.  _ Marry _ Abby,” he points at me when he says this, to make sure I understand, “kill Taylor, I guess. And then...you know.” He blushes.

“Wow.  _ Wow.”  _ I feign shock. “Simon Spier, resident out kid, has just admitted--with Bram Greenfeld as a witness--that he would bang a dude. This is life changing. I mean, who would have guessed, given the other options of his best friend and the most annoying girl in school?”

“Stop.” He’s really blushing, but he’s not angry. “I can’t believe you just said ‘bang a dude’ out loud. Bram Greenfeld, resident shy kid.”

“I guess this game just gives me confidence.” I take a sip of my soda.

“We’ll see about that. It’s my turn.” Suddenly Simon has this smirk on his face that’s probably supposed to look evil or malicious. Like most things about him, it just looks cute. “Nick, the Silver Speedster, and...me.”

He wasn’t kidding. I feel like sinking into the vinyl of the booth, never to be seen again.

I think for a long time. I can’t mess this up. I can say I’d kill Nick and marry Simon, but then I’d have to literally go fuck myself. Not that he would know. Maybe that’s the safest choice.

Simon is looking at me with his eyebrows raised.

“Okay, okay.” I take a deep breath. “Uh, screw Silver--”

“ _ Screw? _ And  _ I’m  _ the ten year old?”

“Would you--” I throw a piece of hash brown at him. He puts his hands up in surrender. “...So, kill Nick, I guess. And marry you.”

Simon’s quiet for a second. He’s kind of squinting at me behind his glasses, like he’s trying to read me, but he’s smiling that sweet, soft smile where just the corners of his mouth twitch upward and if you look closely you can see his tongue between his teeth. I think that’s number one on the list of things I love about him.

“I think I’d do the same.” he says after a while.

“You’d marry yourself?”

“Sure. I’m a catch.”

 

The car ride home is much more comfortable. We talk, laugh, and sing along to the radio. I can’t help but fall a little more in love with him then. It’s just so perfect, the way he steals glances at me at red lights and laughs so wholeheartedly. I want us to be on our first date forever. I don’t want it to end.

But eventually Simon pulls over to the curb in front of my house.

“Do you want me to walk you in?” he asks after a beat.

“Oh, no, probably not a—my mom’s home, so—“

“Oh. Yeah, of course. Okay.” He taps the steering wheel nervously.

“You could walk me to my driveway.” I suggest.

He smiles and mouths, ‘Okay.’

 

“I had a really good time.” I say.

“Me too.” 

“Um, I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

He nods, looks down, and smiles. I’m bouncing the heel of one shoe against the toe of the other. It’s a totally absent-minded thing that I just do all the time.

“You do that when you’re nervous, don’t you?” I move my gaze back to his face and realize he’s staring at my lips.

“Uh, kinda. I mean, I’m not nervous like, bad nervous. I just like you...a lot…”

He kisses me. Just for a second, but for that second  _ everything _ is perfect and nothing else in the whole entire world matters. 

“I like you a lot, too.” he says when he pulls away. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Bram.”

 

And then he gets in his maroon 2003 Subaru and drives away, leaving me standing absolutely dumbstruck on my own front lawn. I touch my lips. He really  _ kissed _ me.  _ Simon Spier kissed me on our first date _ . That’s, like, the best sentence ever created. I kind of feel like flying.

I can’t exactly fly, but I don’t think I’ve ever gotten from my driveway to the front door so fast.


	5. Chapter 5

_SIX MONTHS AGO_

_frommywindow1 commented on a post that you submitted to creeksecrets:_

_“THIS.”_

 

It took a while to work up the courage to email Simon for the first time. I really didn’t know what I was doing. There was a weight lifted off my shoulders when I found out there was another gay kid at Creekwood, but that was literally all I knew about him. _It might not even be a him_ , I thought. I don’t know much about the lesbian experience in Shady Creek, but I assume it can’t be much better than mine. I went into it totally blind, not sure what I was going to find.

But, oh, did I find something.

 

_FOUR MONTHS AGO_

_From: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com_

_To: bluegreen118@gmail.com_

_Date: Dec 29 at 3:18 PM_

_Subject: Re: out and about_

_Blue,_

_That’s...complicated. Congratulations, I guess. Sorry you didn’t get to come out. I was excited for you. I think your mom would be okay with it, based on what you’ve told me. Either way, when you do come out, I wish you the best._

_In other news, your plans to come out inspired me to make plans of my own. As you know, I was already out to one of my friends. But yesterday, in the middle of The freaking Bachelor, I told my family. I don’t think my sisters were surprised. Maybe my parents weren’t either, but they did a better job of hiding it. They were cool, though. My dad feels kind of weird because of all of the jokes, but we’ll be alright._

_I hope you will too._

 

_And now that the hard part’s over, I think I’ll be “out” at school once we get back from break. I guess we’ll see. So...you’ll probably figure out who I am, and that’s kind of terrifying but also kind of awesome._

_I’d like to know who you are too, Blue._

 

_Love,_

_Jacques_

 

Getting that email was probably the closest I’ll ever come to having a heart attack. _I was going to find out who he was_. And eventually I would work up the courage to reveal myself to him, probably with some grand romantic gesture, and the music would swell and he would kiss me and we’d live happily ever after.

Well, it probably wouldn't be that perfect.

The point is, at that time, I didn’t see a reason why we wouldn’t end up together after we finally talked in real life. We flirted in the emails all the time. We still do. We talked about sex. (We don’t do that as much anymore.) A lot of the time it felt like we were already dating, like he was my secret boyfriend who was so secret that even I didn’t know who he was.

The big reveal didn’t happen as magically as I thought it would.

 

_THREE MONTHS AND TWO WEEKS AGO_

“...take the atomic weight of Oxygen, multiplied by the number of--”

The bell rings before Mr. Wheeler can finish his sentence.

“Shoot, lost track of time again. Okay, this is homework--don’t groan, I can assign more…”

 

I’m ridiculously nervous all day. Today could be the day I find out. Although it’s unlikely, because it’s probably gonna take a few days for word to get to me. Unless Jacques is Nick or Garrett. Or Simon. God, I hope it’s Simon. I’ve only had a crush on him forever.

 

_To: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com_

_From: bluegreen118@gmail.com_

_Date: Jan 14 at 1:34 PM_

_Subject: Re: out and about_

_Dear Simon,_

_It’s you._

_I hope you were met with only good reactions today. From what I’ve actually seen, everyone seemed pretty nice._

_Which makes me think about why I haven’t told you who I am yet. Maybe I was hoping you’d guess. The truth is, I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed._

_But I guess it’s better to deal with that now rather than later. No matter what happens, coming out to you will make coming out to everyone else a whole lot easier._

_So, if you have the time, I’d like to meet you behind the gym today at 3:15._

 

_Love,_

_Blue_


	6. Chapter 6

At 3:17 PM, I start to worry he’s not coming. It’s totally unreasonable that I expect him to be here by now because it’s literally been three minutes since I got here, but my anxiety is getting the best of me and I’m starting to imagine all of the reasons why he’s not showing. The first thing that comes to my mind is that he actually figured out who I am on his own and was so disappointed that I’m Blue that he just didn’t bother to let me down in person. There’s also the possibility that his sixth period ran a couple minutes long or Nick held him up at his locker, which is the most realistic idea that I have and is probably what actually happened. Or, maybe he died.

“Bram?”

I’m suddenly startled out of my thoughts by a familiar voice. I turn around to see Simon standing sheepishly in front of me, about two arms’ lengths away. 

“Hi,” I manage.

“Uh, are you...waiting for Garrett, or…?” Simon asks, his eyebrows knit.

My heart drops. 

What the hell do I say to that? 

“Um. No, actually, I was, well.”  _ God, _ I suddenly feel like crying. I can’t tell if Simon’s really this oblivious or if he’s in denial. What if this is a joke? Would Simon do that?

No, not my Simon.

_ My  _ Simon _. _ The Simon who loves Oreos and Harry Potter and sends emails in the middle of the night about how much he’s dreading a test the next day. Simon who helped me through Hotel Hanukkah, who went to the homecoming football game because he knew I’d be there, who was so excited to find out who I was.

_ My Simon. _

“I’m waiting for you.” I finally say.

There’s a moment where Simon just seems utterly confused before realization finally,  _ finally _ dawns on him. He opens his mouth and closes it again.

“It’s you,” he finally says.

“It’s me.” I can’t help but smile. 

“Wow. I--I wouldn’t have guessed. I mean, I just can’t believe--wow.”

“Is that a good ‘wow?’”

“Yeah,” Simon breathes. “Yes. A great ‘wow.’” Hesitantly, he takes a step toward me. “So…” he starts, looking at his sneakers. “What do we--what comes next?”

I start to say something and then I get this awful feeling in my stomach, like something terrible is going to happen. I should have expected this. I had been dreading this question because I don’t like the answer any more than Simon will. 

Simon notices the change in my expression. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, I just--there’s...something else I have to tell you.” Every word is painful to say out loud.

“Sure. Anything.” 

“Um. I’m--” My stomach is turning over and over and I feel like I’m going to be sick, and that sting behind my eyes is back. My mind is going a mile a minute. Do I tell him? What else can I say? I don’t want to hurt him, but if I tell him and he gets involved, then he might  _ really _ get hurt…

“I’m just, uh. I guess I’m not really ready to be out...at school? You know, like, it’s one thing when your parents and your friends know, but it’s another when a thousand teenagers in your city do. And I don’t like secrets.” Technically true. “I guess what I’m saying is that I don’t want things to change. I really value our friendship.” True, but Jesus Christ, I’m basically “friendzoning” him at this point.

Simon bites his lower lip. “Okay,” he nods. “Yeah, um, I like our friendship, too. And I definitely understand. You’re not ready, that’s totally fine, and I would never want to make you uncomfortable.” He’s trying really hard to hide his disappointment. He scratches the back of his head. “But I am really glad you told me. And, I’m honored to be the first person you came out to. Thank you.”

I nod because I think if I try to say anything I’ll choke up. 

“I’ll see you,” he says, and I nod again and try to smile as he walks away from me.

 

_ NOW _

My alarm clock wakes me up at 7:00 from a dream I can hardly remember the second I try to think about it, but I know Simon was there. It leaves a weird feeling, like a bad taste in my mouth, as I get ready for school. 

I’m spacing out more than usual in Garrett’s car, and I can tell because he keeps asking me questions that don’t register.

“Bram? Hello?” Garrett glares at me with wide eyes from the driver’s seat, trying to give me a death stare while also keeping his eyes on the road. 

“Yeah? Sorry, repeat that?”

“I asked you what you did with all those weird thrift clothes, since I couldn’t give you a ride yesterday and you never texted me back. I forgot to ask after practice.” 

“Oh, just, you know.” I desperately try to think of a good lie. “My mom is...making herself a dress for my step-mom’s wedding.”

“Is the wedding ceremony being held as a jazzercise studio?” Garrett scoffs incredulously.

“No, but it’s...an ‘unconventional’ wedding.” I say in defense. “It’s 80s themed.”

 

“I know the reason to read this month’s newspaper was because apparently you all are only interested in what the ‘Silver Speedster’ is up to,” Mr. Wise says with great annoyance just as I take my seat between Simon and Nick. “But you seemed to miss the announcement in the ‘Student Activities’ section stating that the deadline for the creative writing contest has been moved up a week; entries will be due by next Friday, not the last day before spring break.”

“Oh, shit,” I say under my breath. Just a little more than a week?

“Dude, language.” Nick snaps at me in a whisper. I roll my eyes. 

“I understand that this puts a lot of pressure on those of you entering to finish in time, but this is for evaluation purposes, and because you have a required essay assignment due on Monday.”

I glance at Simon. He’s making his “I’m deep in thought, don’t talk to me” face, and I can’t tell if he’s thinking about my entry or if he’s really considering submitting something of his own. 

At this point, I know I’m not going to be able to get anything decent in on time, so I make a mental note to myself not to worry about it. I wasn’t seriously considering doing anything, so I’m not exactly dejected by this fact, but I also have to think about how to bring it up with Simon if he asks.  _ Just change the subject _ , I think. Okay, that works.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ Message to: Simon _

_ Sent: Mar 6 at 5:08 PM _

_ Hey. Bummed about the deadline being moved up? _

 

_ Message from: Simon _

_ Sent: Mar 6 at 5:47 PM _

_ Eh, it’s kind of disappointing, but I’ll live. I’m almost glad I can focus on the essay, actually. Just hoping I don’t use too many sentence fragments. _

 

_ Message to: Simon _

_ Sent: Mar 6 at 5:51 PM _

_ Haha. If you want I’ll proofread it before Monday. _

 

_ Message from: Simon _

_ Sent: Mar 6 at 5:56 PM _

_ Yes please, I could probably use the help. Do you wanna come over on Saturday or Sunday to go over it? And I can give you some ideas for your story _

 

_ Message to: Simon _

_ Sent: Mar 6 at 6:01 PM _

_ Monday doesn’t sound so bad. I can come Saturday at 2?  _

 

_ Message from: Simon _

_ Sent: Mar 6 at 6:02 PM _

_ It’s a date! _

 

_ Message to: Simon _

_ Sent: Mar 6 at 6:04 PM _

_ It’s a study date, Si. You need to do that essay. _

 

_ Message from: Simon _

_ Sent: Mar 6 at 6:06 PM _

_ Figure of speech, Blue. But ok. Thanks. _

 

He still calls me Blue sometimes, when he’s trying to be cute. 

He doesn’t need to use a nickname to make me fall deeper in love with him. But it doesn’t hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic is going to shit

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what yall thinK?


End file.
